


five reasons it took forever for Chie to Get It, from the highly objective and impersonal mental logs of Yukiko Amagi, as transcribed (and admittedly mostly improvised) by Naoto Shirogane

by signalbeam



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Community: badbadbathhouse, F/F, Fluff, Frustration, Meta, Movie Reference, Not to be mistaken for second persona POV, Second person POV, Seduction, Seduction is hard, really long titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-13
Updated: 2009-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signalbeam/pseuds/signalbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Yukiko attempts to seduce Chie, but mostly ends up feeling foolish and kind of silly and sprains her neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five reasons it took forever for Chie to Get It, from the highly objective and impersonal mental logs of Yukiko Amagi, as transcribed (and admittedly mostly improvised) by Naoto Shirogane

**Author's Note:**

> The full title of this piece is "five reasons it took forever for Chie to Get It, from the highly objective and impersonal mental logs of Yukiko Amagi, as transcribed (and admittedly mostly improvised) by Naoto Shirogane to satisfy the curiosity of Rise Kujikawa and Kanji Tatsumi, and the abnormal obsession of Hanamura Yosuke; found and edited by Souji Seta and Teddie, who then had to rescue it from destruction at the hands of Yukiko Amagi and the extremely furious Chie Satonaka." Uh. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
> 
> This is the piece that showed me how dorky Yukiko can be. Normally I write Chie being a megadork, but Yukiko can bring it, too. Oh, can she bring it. Written for the badbadbathhouse prompt: _After having Chie ignore several blatant come-ons from her, Yukiko comes to the conclusion (right or wrong) that everything Chie knows about romance comes from Kung Fu movies. Based on that decision, she changes her wooing tactics accordingly._ The poem quoted is "For the Courtesan Ch'ing Lin" by Wu Tsao, as translated by Kenneth Rexroth.

1\. Let it be known that what may seem a blatant come on to some may be more easily interpreted as an expression of long-lasting friendship and affection, an unfortunate bout of clumsiness, or, in this case, inflicting hell on your poor best friend, because asking your best friend to help you translate Chinese love poems to Japanese is not the most transparent of ways to woo anyone. If pressed, translating poetry would rate maybe a four out of ten on the seduction scale, with math problems rating about a two.

Let it also be known that highly suggestive clothing is more trouble than it is worth when attempting to seduce Chie. Thus, the garter, tank top, and the short skirt that made sitting down impossible without violating at least two public decency laws and offending your own dignity were eliminated early on in the courtship. It is hardly as though she pays any attention to what you wear, because you've stumbled out of bed wearing one of her t-shirts and a pair of too-baggy pants, and she said that you looked as though you were getting ready to rock the runway. When you try to put an effort to look good for her, she ends up being too busy trying to decipher the poetry of Wu Tsao to notice that you are, in fact, wearing a lace bra.

_I want to possess you completely  
Your jade body  
And your promised heart._

Perhaps she is too oblivious to notice that jade is very often green. And she was definitely sleeping through the lecture when Ms. Sofue took a five minute break from Ancient Egypt to explain the virtues of 19th century Chinese poetry. And definitely missed the three seconds where Ms. Sofue said that Wu Tsao was a lesbian, because Chie won’t stop calling Wu Tsao a ‘he’ until you correct her, gently, and make her go red and say, ‘ _oh_.’

Perhaps trying to find poems that incorporate martial arts in them may be more effective, but such poems are rarely combined with traditional love poems, and it would so happen to be that you are more of a traditionalist than you would prefer being. It could be that Chie-san has no appreciation for the aesthetics or conventions of traditional romance. You think to yourself, a little bitterly, that Chie has watched one too many Jackie Chan films, because this is about as seductive as you're going to get. Any more than this, and you'll give yourself away by blushing all the way to the roots of your hair. Except maybe then Chie will notice you, because red looks good on you, doesn't it?

 

2\. Chie responds to attempts to join her on her morning and afternoon training sessions with panic and worry rather than inviting you to join her, and opening up many opportunities to correct your form, guide your hands to the right place and—

—

…

In any case, she has sidelined you while she shows off her strength and leaves you to sit on the banks of the Samegawa and applaud politely.

Let it be known that attempting a move that she cannot do is likely to end with you in a neck brace, and Chie chiding you for stepping out of bounds. (Let it also be known that the transcriber is uncertain whether this should be true, but finds the evidence to point to this conclusion.) And that even if she should be ready to bring you ice packs and pillows at your beck and call, it does not necessarily suggest the beginnings of a romance, or even count as a romantic encounter.

[Also, the transcriber would like to say that clarification on these points would be muchly appreciated: prince, princess, and aversion to whips and “kinky bondage gear” on the parts of both parties.]

 

3\. Let it be known that encouraging one’s best friend (and love interest) to pursue her passions is actually an invitation for her to disappear for afternoon after afternoon without telling you where she is going, or why she has left. Let it also be known that you only figure out what she is doing when you find bits and pieces of broken pine boards on the ground by the banks of the river.

Perhaps you find it flattering to be viewed as something to be protected, but you are, nonetheless, upset that she does not view you as a person capable of taking care of yourself, and that she has to undergo “secret training” to protect you. And you are certainly concerned for her well-being, which is why you spend more hours than you really should be spending watching her on the Samegawa.

You try to remember how people do this seducing thing in kung fu movies, and come to the conclusion that you ought to be dressed in a much skimpier outfit, and maybe try to attack her in the middle of her training routine. That’s not really your thing, and besides, you’re well aware that you have little knowledge of the art of kung fu other than “hit this” and “hit that” and the all-purpose technique of “run away really fast.” Besides, you’ve already tried the skimpy outfit once, and that only embarrassed the both of you.

When your best friend ends up breaking her toes on a tree and makes you half-carry her to the school nurse, let it be known, but only to yourself, that you dislike it when people get hurt on your behalf, and that Chie was maybe a little too touchy on the way back to the school, and that Chie was acting more flustered and awkward when the two of you were alone in the nurse’s office than usual. It might all be in your imagination, but you think it's real. And if it's real, then it might be a good thing, because flustered and awkward is the perfect indicator of true feelings, except when the person being flustered and awkward is Kanji-kun or Naoto-kun or Yosuke-kun. Definitely not a good thing, then. Or maybe it is a good thing, after all. You're indecisive. You wish Personae could give you an ability to look into other people’s minds instead of just your own. All the years you've spent with Chie are now working against you, because you have a hundred counterexamples for every one of your examples that she might like you in any significant, meaningful manner.

Either way, you try to remind her of that one scene in the _Karate Kid II_ when Danny uses that strange Crane stance to knock out the villain, which leads to the two of you talking about wuxia and how they all tend to end tragically. You like those endings. There’s something poetic about them, and you like tradition, sometimes for tradition’s sake.

Chie likes stories with happy endings, where good triumphs over evil and everyone lives happily ever after, and you can’t help but think about how you once wanted to run away, and how a story like that would have had one of those old fashioned endings you like so much, with you lost and the Inn thrown off-balance and Chie alone and waiting and searching and angry. And you know that is an ending you wouldn’t want at all.

[Let it be known that the transcriber had to sit very closely to the door to record this conversation, at Rise-san’s insistence, and that she honestly did not mean to fall through the door and interrupt anything.]

 

4\. Let it be known that Chie does not like being taken care of, and that you are very good at taking care of her, whether she likes it or not. If not you, then who else? The rest of the team, of course, but you find that objectionable. You know others find it strange that you do, but you don't care.

The maddening thing is, she doesn’t view you taking care of her strange at all, and doesn't glean the meaning of your jealousy about the others. She thinks that this is a plain and ordinary thing, which is true, because she was the one who was helping you with those pillows and icepacks a few weeks ago, and which isn't, because you're not fretting over her because she's only your friend.

_My dear, let me buy a red painted boat  
And carry you away._

You say it jokingly, and Chie shakes one of her crutches at you and says, Don’t say that again, I might just take you up on your offer.

Which is why you’re in the Samegawa sending dyed newspapers down the river. It is cold. Your fingers are stiff from the wind and water, and your eyes and lips are dry. Half of the school has seen the daughter of the Amagi Inn sending little red boats down the river. If you’re not careful, someone might make a tradition out of it. You already see elementary schoolers scooping the boats up downstream and setting them afloat one more time.

Chie is sitting on one of the rocks watching the boats float by, and occasionally chatting with a passerby. You’ve always liked looking at her, and tell her as much. She laughs and says she’s been lamed, so there’s not much to look at. You want to touch her, and so you hold her hand, and wish you could touch more.

You understand it, now. You're a procrastinator. The reason it's taking so long for Chie to get anything is because you are too much of a coward to say what you really mean, and end up conveying everything through metaphor and half-words and half-meanings until you’re sick with yearning and dying of poison of your own choosing. Which is a very kung fu master thing to do, but you’re beginning to think your time might be better spent using a more direct approach.

You’re thinking of boats, but of a different kind than the ones you’ve made, and more melancholic: passengers drifting away to a foreign land, or ships dashed by crashing waves, with only shards of broken masts returning.

Well, this boat has no passenger, but something must end, and something must yield. And you find yourself seeking a line from Shakespeare, but all you remember about Shakespeare is how densely English it is, and how little you really understood of him; all you remember are lines and quotes and quips about biting thumbs and burying the dead and taking people away to a nunnery.

You stay silent, and think that if this was a movie, this would be the point where a ninja or the villain would spring on them and surprise them and slit their throats, do something like that, but all that happens is that Chie complains about how bored she is, and you’re drowning on words you want to say.

 

5\. [Let it be known that the only things privy to the transcriber during the three-day block in which there was an unofficial communications breakdown between Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai is best described as thus: they are angry, and show their anger by sniping at one another passive-aggressively, which cumulates in Yukiko-senpai challenging Chie-senpai to what is either a meeting underneath the gazebo, or a duel. One of the two. There was quite possibly an aural misunderstanding.

Either way, let it be known that in this case, it is wholly the fault of the transcriber for walking in during the middle of a confession, and thus, being yet another cause for why Chie does not Get It.]

When you were a child, you remember idolizing the women in Chie’s kung fu movies more than the men. While Chie admired the men’s skill and power, you found yourself drawn to the women and their stories. It’s only later that you realize that you were more attracted to the women to begin with, and that you saw a part of yourself trapped on the screen, a bird straining against its cage, waiting to burst free and leave everything (except for the hero) behind. You've always played the role of the quietly yearning heroine, and only now, by being more direct and up-front, are you breaking away from that.

You’ve said “I like you” twice now, and thus far you’ve heard two different misinterpretations of the same words. You say, “I don’t mean that I like you as a friend,” which leads to a two minute tangent where Chie worries that you two aren’t friends, and you worry about the rapidly-vanishing threads of your courage.

“I _like_ you,” you say, and this time Chie’s eyes go round and she says, _Oooh_. So, well, there. That’s it. It’s almost anti-climatic, really. Everything you’ve learned about confession is through frantic searches through your mother’s library of romance novels, and fast-forwarding to the final ten minutes of every movie you own, so it takes you a little while to get the message through in a way that makes sense and does not promise to embarrass you the second you say a word. Many of the confessions in the movies happen after winning some grand battle, or in the middle of winning a grand battle, or in the middle of losing a grand battle, but you’ve missed all your opportunities for those, so this is the best you can do for now.

“Well,” Chie says.

“Um,” you say lamely.

“Okay,” she says.

And then there’s another detour while you stand there and try to work things out what ‘okay’ means and Chie keeps saying that it doesn’t mean what you think it means, even when it does mean what you think it means.

The detour ends when she tilts your head up and kisses you on the mouth.

"So there," she says, sounding cocky and all too much like a smug action hero. Like Han Solo as he’s being encased in carbonite, you think, with a twinge of laughter bubbling in the back of your mind. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You want to say that it's her fault that it's taken the two of you so long to begin with, but that'll ruin the mood. She takes your hand in hers, which is something she's done many times before, but never quite like this, and then wobbles dangerously, because she still needs crutches to walk. She lets out a little groan when you laugh, and yells and points at a tree where a band of devious bandits are spying on the two of you.

Why is it a _band_ of bandits when bandits are already banding together, you begin to say, but Chie is already tugging you forward, hobbling because she won't let go of your hand and wants to move as fast as she can anyway. You lend her your shoulder, and go chasing after Naoto and Rise, who are more than capable of outrunning you, and will do so, with no thought to narrative structure or convenience. But oh, you think, these kinds of stories aren't so bad, either.


End file.
